


Risk: A Witcher's Most Loyal Companion

by AllOfTheChaos



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Gerald likes having Jaskier around but will never admit it, Hate Speech, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier talks too much even though he's right, Jaskier will not take your bullshit, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Violence, Worried Gerald, people hate witchers, protective Gerald, stupid humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllOfTheChaos/pseuds/AllOfTheChaos
Summary: It has been said that traveling with a Witcher is like walking towards your grave.  Jaskier thinks that's all fucking bullshit.He's been traveling with Gerald for only two weeks and it has been a non stop adventure. Sure the monsters were dangerous but that came with the job.Unfortunately today was the day that the reality of being with a Witcher decided to catch up to him in the most unexpected way possible.AN: Pardon any mistakes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

He has been traveling with the bard for two weeks now and it has been…strange for the witcher. It’s hard to describe the experience. It vaguely reminds him of his days at Kaer Morhen with his brothers.

Sometimes the bard is so incredibly annoying that it takes every ounce of his training not to strangle the man.

However other times, coming back from a difficult job and finding a prepared meal with a warm fire, quickly relaxes all the strung up muscles and bruises in his body.

Surprisingly, Roach likes him as well but maybe that’s because he keeps spoiling her. Also, every so often, the bard would sing these beautiful ballads that bring a sense of peace to the witcher’s mind; one that he has not experienced in quite some time.

Therefore, the witcher does not abandon the man in the middle of the night, although he has thought about it…several times.

But the thing that keeps stopping him, and he will never admit this to anyone other than Roach, is the loneliness. It’s nice to talk to a person who will not call you a freak and spit in your face. The bard’s total lack of fear towards him is what’s most fascinating to the witcher.

So he makes sure they avoid staying in villages for a time. He does not need the human’s words and attention to poison the bard’s perception of him. Unfortunately that cannot continue for very long , Jaskier will start to notice.

So that is how the two men found themselves entering a quaint village early in the morning.

A cool breeze ruffled their hair, as they passed by the buildings. There was dew visible on the plants and trees around them and Jaskier pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

“Best we find an inn first, eh? These chilly nights are not good for my health.”

“We’ll go eat and then I find work.”

“But.”

“If you wish to waste time trying to find an inn for us after that, be my guest.”

Jaskier quickly made his way to the other side of the horse and petted her neck. “You know, Roach would love a nice warm stable.”

The witcher glared at him and the bard huffed, crossing his arms but followed the taller man silently.

They found a small rickety looking tavern called the “The Cracked Goblet”.

There were about two dozen people inside drinking and eating. The tables and chairs barely had any room between them and there was not a bard in sight. Also all the unfriendly gazes zeroed in on them the minute they walked in.

Jaskier decided to keep his opinion of the establishment to himself. His relationship with the witcher was still a little shaky after all.

They went up to the barkeep and ordered their food before the witcher started asking about strange sightings.

The bard’s eyes keep snapping back to the patrons in the tavern. They had not stopped looking at them; there was a table with five men, who were distinctly looking at him with disgust on their faces.

Jaskier looked around and when he didn’t find any other cause for their expressions he thought for a moment.

“Gerald? Is there something on my face?” Without turning his head, the witcher’s eyes shifted towards him, an eyebrow raising above them.

“… or maybe my body?” The bard gasped in horror. “Is there a tear on my clothes?!” He immediately covered his behind with his hands.

“What? Why?” The witcher finally asked.

“Well those men over there have been giving me unpleasant looks since we walked in.”

The witcher glanced over his shoulder before huffing and shaking his head. “They’re looking at you because you’re with me.”

Jaskier blinked for a moment, shocked.

“Oh!” The bard grinned, nudging him with this elbow. “Jealous are they? Don’t blame ‘em, I would be too.”

Gerald turned his head towards the bard fully, hints of surprise barely visible on his face.

“No.” He said firmly. “They probably think you are a fool. Or that I have bewitched you somehow.”

The offended look on the bard’s face switched to one of skepticism. “Bewitch me? Witchers can do that?”

“No.” Gerald growled, looking away.

“Ha. I knew it. I honestly wouldn’t have believed it even if you told me otherwise.”

The witcher’s eyes shifted to the bard ones more as he continued to ramble, the momentary anger from before disappearing from his face.

“No offense dear witcher, but you have the social skills of a donkey. I mean, do you have any idea how hard it is to charm a person? It takes years of practice to master the craft; I should know I am the best in the field. It would take a miracle for you to bewitch me.” Jaskier chuckles to himself. “You would need more than your looks my friend, just so you know.”

The bard glanced up, at the witcher and upon seeing his expression, froze.

Jaskier cleared his throat as the silence stretched and looked at the ground for a moment before smacking the bar with his hand.

“SO my generous barkeep, what sort of beasts have you stumbled upon, eh? Any naked nymphs strolling through your lakes, ha Ha HA!” He asked in an extra cheerful voice, trying hard to hide his red cheeks.

Surprisingly, the barkeep laughed. “If those things in the lake were naked nymphs there would be more dead, lad.”

Gerald’s eyes snapped towards the man. “Things? What things? You didn’t say anything about things in the lake.”

The barkeep turned up his nose. “Ya didn’t ask about the lake, witcher.”

Gerald gritted his teeth. “I am trying to help.”

“That don’t concern me. Go talk to someone who’s gonna pay ya.”

The witcher pursed his lips, staring silently at the barkeep for a few moments. “Our food?”

“I’ll bring it but I’m afraid there ain’t not empty tables for ya.”

Jaskier’s brow frowned and he looked back at the tavern. There were in fact several empty seats.

He turned back. “But…?”

“Fine.” Gerald cut him off.

“Good.” The barkeep smiled and went to get their food.

They waited in silence. Gerald stoic as a rock and Jaskier as fidgety as a mouse, constantly glancing back at the angry looking people.

The barkeep brought their meals and Jaskier barely held back the urge to sprint out of there.

When they were outside the bard placed his hands on his hips and let out a breath of relief.

The witcher glanced at the antsy bard cautiously, as he went to get Roach.

“Hooo! That was intense. I could feel their eyes all over me! I mean, I enjoy attention as much as any bard but that…” he cleared his throat. “…that was…not nice.” He breathed out ones again.

“Eloquently put.” The witcher shot back before he could stop himself.

“Hey! For your information, I was under pressure! There was so much negative energy in there!” Jaskier spun towards him, waving his hands around. “Have you met an artist who can create under such hostility? I don’t think so...! So…yeah…”

The side of Gerald’s mouth twitched up for a moment.

Jaskier huffed and began walking.

“Where are you going?”

“To find an inn!”

The witcher shook his head before calling back. “I’ll set up camp on the east side at the edge of the forest.”

The bard waved his hand without turning around.

The witcher went on his way.

He knew how things would end for the bard, he has been through it himself many time. He just hoped the man was smart enough to find a room for himself.

***

First Gerald visited the landlord of the village and discussed his payment for disposing the creatures in the lake. Next, he went to set up camp and finally to scout out the lake.

When he returned to camp, a miserable looking bard was waiting for him.

All the witcher had to do was raise a brow at the bard to get him to talk.

“That was the most ridiculous experience in my life!” He huffed before springing to his feet.

Surprisingly, the witcher gave him his full attention.

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and slapped an exaggerated smile across his lips. An overly cheery tone filling his voice. “Oh! Good day to you, fine sir, I would like a room with two beds please. What? Oh yes, we are new! My friend and I are adventurers!”

Gerald continued watching him silently with amusement crinkling in his eyes. Roach was also watching him, her ears twitching from time to time.

“I am here to fill your village with music…” He gestured towards the witcher. “…and my friend is here to rid you of your pesky monster problem! Oh, why yes, my friend is a witcher, why do you ask? Um, what?What do you mean you don’t have any rooms left? My good man, you told me you did just a few moments ago! Oh! I hadn’t heard right? Oh, my mistakes I guess. Ha ha! What an odd misunderstanding. Have a good day!”

The bard finished his play with a flamboyant wave, skipping in one place before dropping character and giving Gerald the most offended yet exasperated look he had ever seen on a man’s face.

“Didn’t know you were an actor.” The witcher commented.

The bard signed, disappointed and yet he answered. “All great musicians must be actors as well.”

The witcher hummed, looking away.

“Anyway!” Jaskier walked in front of him, wanting to stay on track. “Pretty much the same conversation happened in the second inn and when I tried the third one, without mentioning you’re a witcher, they somehow already knew!”

“News travels fast. I told you not to waste your time.”

“But why did they…?!”

Gerald cut him off. “Told you…humans don’t like me.”

Jaskier huffed sitting on a nearby rock. “Bloody idiots, the lot of ‘em.”

The witcher gave him a strange look but didn’t say anything.

He pulled his sword from the sheath and started to sharpen it. The bard watched him for a few moments still frustrated, before asking.

“So, did you figure out what sort of beastie is in the lake?”

“Probably drowners.”

“Drowners? As in more than one?”

The witcher just looked at him with an unimpressed raised brow.

“How many do you think?”

“Maybe six. They’re usually in packs. Easier to hunt that way.”

“Naturally.” The bard commented dryly. “So, not really a good idea for me to come, eh?”

“Do what you wish. But it’s likely that you’ll be dragged to the bottom of the lake while I’m occupied and stuffed full of their eggs so more may grow.”

“Right.” Jaskier gave a curt nod, looking very green before getting to his feet. The witcher followed him with his eyes, a smirk pulling at the side of his lips.

The bard grabbed his lute and sat by the fire. “Well uh…I just remembered that I need to be working on that song about you, so I best stay here.”

Jaskier started playing the all too familiar melody, of his “magnum opus”, as he liked to call it. It was a fun ditty that the bard claimed would make the witcher the greatest hero in all the lands.

“ _…He wiped out your pest. Got kicked in his chest. He's a friend of humanity. So give him the rest…”_ He sung quietly, swaying from side to side.

And that is how the next few hours passed; Gerald preparing for his hunt and Jaskier writing his song.

When it got dark the witcher was off. He knew this could take the whole night so he made sure to warn the bard not to come and check on him, they’ve already had a similar accident and Gerald did not want to repeat it.

Jaskier watched him disappear in the forest and let out a sigh. He continued with his writing for another hour or so before getting tired.

He got to his feet and decided to indulge his curiosity by rummaging through the witcher’s bag. He found several smaller knives, rope, scrolls with strange writing on them, gems, and a few bottles with bizarre colors.

He found a red bottle, a blue one that smelled of whiskey and something rotten, a yellow one that he did not expect because it was warm and looked like piss. Finally, a slightly bigger bottle with thick black liquid, which made him throw up immediately after smelling it.

He decided to stop exploring after that.

He ate some more and drank the whole bottle of ale they had left.

He went to complain to Roach about the lack of appreciation from the witcher. The horse gave him a few sympathetic head-butts, which earned her an hour of being serenaded.

After that the bard promptly fell asleep.

***

He woke up when the sun was starting to peak behind the mountains, the sky still darker on one side.

Still half asleep and with a slight hangover, Jaskier began lighting the fire. It was a tedious task but the cold licking his cheeks motivated him enough. After the fire came to life, he started making breakfast. The bard did feel a slight worry for the witcher, and kept throwing glances at the thick forest.

After everything was complete, he settled against a tree and began playing his lute. He was humming a new melody not really knowing what it was. It sounded sad yet hopeful.

That is when some noise caught his ear. His eyes immediately snapped towards the forest but after a few moments, he realized that they were coming from the opposite direction.

He turned his head just in time to see five men walking up to his little camp. His brows scrunched up when he recognized some of their faces but wasn’t sure from where.

He immediately slapped on his most friendly smile. “Good morning, gentlemen!”

The biggest one, with very short hair who seemed to be the leader, stepped forward. “Ay. You the bard with the witcher?”

Jaskier quickly got to his feet. “Yes, I am! Got some monster heads you need bashing? Gerald isn’t back yet but I’m sure he won’t be…”

“No.” The man interrupted, stepping closer. The other four behind him were silent with grim looks on their faces.

Jaskier took a step back, his smile lessening. He swallowed hard and pulled the lute in front of his chest. “You want to hire me then? I’m all for it but I’ll have to let Gerald know before I…”

Two of the men chuckled looking at each other.

“…or I could leave him a note or something?”

“You work for the witcher?” The big man asked.

“Well not really. We’re more partners I suppose? It’s a mutual sort of work agreement, you know.”

“So he pays you?” The oldest man of the five pipes up surprised.

“Not really. It’s more of um… I fix his reputation and he lets me tag along on his adventures for my songs.”

The five men had a small exchange among themselves before the leader held up a small bag.

“We’ll give you 20 gold if you help us get the witcher.”

Jaskier froze, his eyes going wide. Unease settled in his belly like a rock. “T-twenty…wh-what do you mean? What do you want to do?”

The leader of the group gave him a strange look while the other four laughed.

“What the hell is wrong with you, mate?”

“What a fucking idiot!”

“Don’t you know all Witchers have bounties on their heads?”

Jaskier’s blood ran cold. “Uhm…I-I guess I’m…I haven’t…” He looked down at his feet, laughing nervously. This was not good. 

He took another step back and straightened up, the smile back in place. “As a bard I don’t concern myself with such trivia.”

“Well.” The large man gave him a stern look. “What do you say, bard?”

“I’m afraid I cannot help you, gentlemen. But I will happily play a few free songs in a tavern of your choice.” He played a few strings on his lute as demonstration. 

“30 gold.”

Jaskier’s smile faltered. “My good fellow, that’s not...”

“40 gold.”

“Really that’s quite…”

“50 gold.”

“No. This is getting ridiculous, I…”

The man took one final step forward, now inches away from the bard’s face, who had to look up to see his eyes. “Final offer, bard. 60 gold.”

Jaskier could smell the whiskey on the man’s breath. It took every ounce of self-control not to shower him with every colorful profanity he had ever learned. He placed his hand on the man’s chest and pushed but when he didn’t budge he just took a step back.

“No but thank you for the offer.” He said slowly, in the most polite way possible. “Now I must tend to the fire so I wish you all a fine day.”

He turned around and kneeled in front of the slowly dying fire. His eyes glancing at the forest nervously, wishing the witcher would be back already.

“What is wrong with ya, boy!” The older man barked. “He’s a witcher!”

Jaskier gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything.

The youngest in the group pulled the older man back. “Leave him be, he’s too much of a bleeding heart.”

The leader of the group walked over and stood beside Jaskier. “There is no need for you to feel for a Witcher, for he does not feel for any.”

“Okay!” Jaskier snapped to his feet, getting in the man’s face. “I’ve had enough of this bloody bullshit!”

“I am not going to help you _kill_ my companion for some coin. In fact, I would not help you kill any innocent man for coin. And if you think spouting some old superstitious _bullshit_ will magically stop me from caring that a man will die than you are an absolute fucking moron!”

As he was starting to scream at the man, a voice in the back of Jaskier’s head was screaming at _him_ to shut his fucking mouth. Unfortunately, that voice was very small and he was just so angry and tired of all the prejudice that he couldn’t stop.

“Gerald came here offering his help and your answer is to try to kill him! Why?! Because you’ve heard that Witchers are monsters? Have you ever encountered a Witcher? Have you spoken to one? I highly doubt that, you probably just split his head open the moment you saw him!”

His words died suddenly as fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed. He immediately grabbed the man’s hand as he felt himself being lifted off the ground.

“How unfortunate. You just cost us 600 gold, bard.”

Jaskier gasped, trying to kick the man but he was getting weaker by the minute, the edges of his vision beginning to blur.

The man yanked his hand forward, their noses almost touching. “What are you gonna do about that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little idea I wrote that turned out longer than expected.
> 
> I'll be posting the second chapter in a day or two i just need to fix it up a bit.
> 
> If you liked it smack a kudos or two or leave a comment. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two has arrived!

Gerald came back soaking wet and sore.

As he thought, there were drowners in the lake, five of them to be exact. Unfortunately, he discovered that two of them were female so he had to wait until the sun came up so he could dive into the lake and destroy their eggs as well.

The good news was that he was going to get payed double for all the drowners. He had their heads in a bag to show to the landlord in case he didn’t believe him.

When Gerald reached their camp, he was surprised that the first thing that greeted him was Roach’s loud whinny. He petted the horse, calming it down a bit. That's when he realized that the bard was not there.

A strange sort of feeling settled in his chest, that he couldn't quite describe. 

“He left, huh? Don’t be mad.” He said to the still restless Roach. “I’m surprised he lasted this long.”

He dropped his things and settled in front of the thankfully still burning fire.

Something strange caught the witcher’s gaze in that moment. He could see footprints near the other side of the fire. Several footprints of different sizes.

He took a deep breath and his brow frowned when the slight scent of blood hit him. He followed its direction and took another deep breath.

The witcher froze. _Human_ blood.

Very familiar human blood.

“Fuck.” The witcher muttered through gritted teeth, grabbed his sword and stormed into the direction of the scent.

His nose carried him to the center of town, from a distance he could see a small crowd gathered.

As he made his way toward it, Gerald experienced something that he hadn’t in many years.

His blood ran cold.

His feet seized and his breath hitched.

He could not take his eyes off the sight before him.

There was Jaskier with a rope around his neck hanging from a thick wooden pole. His feet were kicking in the air and he was holding onto the rope trying to prevent it from chocking him completely. His face was bloody and his expensive clothes torn.

There were two men beside the pole holding onto the rope and laughing. There was a tall strong looking man standing in front of the bard egging the small crowd on, who kept cheering and occasionally throwing things at Jaskier.

The two men let the rope go and the bard crumbled to the ground, coughing and gasping for air.

“Has he had enough?!” The large man turned to the crowd before spinning on his heels and bending down to the bard’s level. “Have you had enough?!” He roared in his ear which made Jaskier flinch.

The bard gasped out a response but it was too quiet to hear. However, the sudden scowl that twisted the man’s face was enough to tell them his answer.

“The mutant lover is still delusional! String him up!” The man yelled turning to the crowd. They cheered and Jaskier had just enough strength to get to his feet when the rope began to constrict his throat. In mere seconds, he was in the air again, his feet helplessly flailing about.

Gerald felt a growl travel up his throat as his body finally moved. He made his way through the crowed, the people too occupied with their entertainment to notice him.

_“Mutant lover!”_

_“String him up!”_

_“He is bewitched! Kill him!”_

_“Cut out his tongue!”_

_“Witcher whore!”_

_“Cleanse his mind!”_

He broke through the crowd and when he had Jaskier in sight, he tossed a dagger at the rope above his head.

The crowd gasped as the bard fell to the ground and everyone took a step back at the sight of the Witcher.

Even the leader stood frozen before him. Gerald glared as he made his way to the bard. He kneeled down to inspect the human.

One of Jaskier’s bloody hands shakily reached out and touched his leg.

The bard had his head down, holding his neck with one hand.

He could tell that one of his shoulders was dislocated and he had blood on his face from a wound on his nose. His hands and neck were also bloody from rope burn. From the way he was wheezing, while he breathed, he probably had a few cracked ribs, too.

Gerald’s eye took in the people around them and immediately zeroed in on three people with scrapped hands. He could smell Jaskier’s blood on them.

Before he could think better of it, his fist was flying towards the large man’s face. It connected with a satisfying crunch and the human hit the ground, _hard_. A few teeth went flying in front of the small crowd.

Everything went silent. Gerald’s eyes shifted towards the other two, the ones who were holding the now limp rope.

They simultaneously took a step back.

Gerald pulled out his sword and one of the two men bolted. The witcher threw his sword and it pierced the back of the man’s leg. He cried out in agony and fell to his knees.

Chaos erupted. Screams tore through the crowd as they scattered.

Gerald stepped in front of the third man who was frozen in place; he scrunched up his face as the smell of piss hit his nose.

“Please, _please_ don’t kill me. I’m begging you. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t kill me!” He cried, snot leaking from his nose.

Gerald regarded him with disgust before grabbing his wrist and snapping it back. The man shrieked and collapsed.

He went to retrieve his sword from the other man’s leg and as the witcher walked back to Jaskier he made sure to stomp his boot on the large man’s crotch, effectively pulling him back to consciousness. He screamed at the top of his lungs, his now broken jaw hanging slightly.

Ignoring their whimpers, Gerald kneeled beside the bard, who seemed to have gotten the hang of breathing again, a little bit.

“Can you stand, Jaskier?” He asked quietly.

He could see that the bard was trying to speak but all he ended up doing was making himself cough.

Finally, he decided to just pick up Jaskier and, being mindful of his dislocated shoulder, he made his way back to their camp where Roach was waiting.

He could feel every shake of the human’s body, every stuttering breath and wince.

“Ge’ld…” The bard croaked, one of his hands pulling on his shoulder.

“Don’t talk, Jaskier. You’ll make your throat worse.” A shudder ran through the man’s body and the witcher subconsciously tightened his grip.

When they reached the camp Gerald carefully examined the bard one more time, checking to see if he was fit to travel. They had to leave the village as soon as possible.

When he was sure that the man’s wounds weren’t lethal he made a sling for his arm and started packing their things.

He put everything on Roach and took the bard in his arms. They quietly made their way out of the village and didn’t stop until the sun started to set.

Gerald made camp in the thickest part of the woods so they would be difficult to find and quickly got a fire going.

After that he focused his attention on the bard. He had fallen unconscious hours ago so it was a lot easier to move him around.

Gerald went through his bag searching for anything that might help, even though he knew in the back of his mind, that all the potions he had were made for witchers. If the bard consumed any of them he would most likely die. But he searched for about 10 more minutes, hoping to find something.

He looked at the beaten and bruised human and sighed, knowing that they couldn’t continue traveling. The bard was hurt too much, it was dangerous.

He kneeled next to Jaskier and got to work, cleaning and bandaging all the scraps he could find. After he was done the only thing left was to fix his dislocated shoulder.

He grabbed it and popped it back into place as quickly as possible.

Jaskier’s eyes snapped open, a whine escaping his lips. “Fucki…’ell…” he whimpered squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to take a deep breath but winced as soon as he did.

“Sorry.” Gerald placed a hand on his chest to keep him from moving but wouldn’t dare press down, too afraid of breaking his already cracked ribs. “Don‘t move too much, Jaskier.”

The bard’s eyes focused on the witcher as he croaked out. “Ger’ld…T-those men….”

“I took care of them, don’t worry.”

Jaskier’s brow frowned, he opened his mouth to say something but a rough cough forced its way out of his mouth instead.

Gerald quickly lifted his head up so it would be easier. He watched worried as the human wheezed and coughed for a few moments.

Finally whatever was stuck in his throat made its way through, which unfortunately, was blood. Gerald’s eyes went wide as red splattered across the bard’s lips.

“…fuck.” He gritted his teeth, as he watched Jaskier trying to regain his breath. He had to get him to a healer right now. He hoped they could spend the night here but the bard was worse than he thought.

“I’ll get you some water.” He said, getting to his feet. He grabbed a water-skin and helped Jaskier take a few slow sips.

After he was done, the bard grabbed Gerald’s hand and tired to smile, the pain twisting it into something not quite right. “I’m…fine.”

The witcher just gave him a stern look.

“I swear…I just need…t-to rest.”

“Alright.” The witcher muttered. “We’ll keep going tomorrow.”

He saw Jaskier sigh in relief.

“I just need…a few hours.” He murmured tiredly.

“Sure.” The witcher helped him lay down and settled next to the fire sharpening his weapon.

The bard watched him for a few minutes, his eyes slowly beginning to close.

After Jaskier fell asleep Gerald waited half an hour more before gathering their things again and getting the bard on Roach. He settled behind him and set off to the nearest town.

***

When they reached a village a few hours later he managed to find a healer.

She was reluctant to help when she first saw his white hair and yellow eyes, but ones he tossed a very full coin pouch on her table she agreed to take care of the bard, as long as Gerald wasn’t seen around her home.

Gerald agreed.

Still he stayed near the village till morning and visited the healer ones to check on the bard.

When she confirmed that Jaskier would live, Gerald left.

***

He spend the next day in kind of haze.

He was surprised how much the encounter affected him. He wondered aimlessly until he made his way back to the village, to everyone’s horror.

Fortunately for them the only thing he wanted was his payment for the drowners from the landlord. Still he felt a sort of satisfaction whenever he saw someone recognized him on the street and flee.

The next two months he avoided human interactions as much as possible. His shoulders were constantly tense, he couldn’t relax. His mind kept drifting to the bard. Guilt gripped his chest and quite often he found himself missing the company. But he knew deep down that he would not see Jaskier again. What sane man would ever want to lay their eyes on him after what happened.

He was currently sitting by a lake near a village. He had a job there; a skin-walker of some sort attacking people at night.

The sun was staring to set and the sky had a beautiful purple tinge to it. Gerald took a deep breath trying to relax and failing miserably.

“I’m very offended you know.” A familiar voice piped up behind him.

Gerald whipped around, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of Jaskier before him.

The bard was clean cut, in an overly expensive looking red outfit. His arms were crossed over his chest and his lute strapped comfortably on his back.

“Jaskier.” Gerald whispered in disbelief.

The bard started walking towards him. “I mean, I know I am a bit talkative sometimes but really? Ditching me when I was most vulnerable…”

“No, I…” Gerald tried to protest.

The bard kept getting closer. “…and with that awful woman, no less. Her healing methods were downright cruel!”

Gerald got to his feet, the guild swelling in his chest. “Jaskier, you were…”

“The first few days I was convinced she was some sort of hag, trying to beat me into a human steak so she could cook me! Oh and don’t get me started on her…”

The witcher was looking down at his feet now, unable to meet Jaskier’s eyes.

The bard stopped in front of the witcher. “…narrow-minded beliefs about witchers. I wanted to clog her over the head so many bloody times!”

Gerald’s eyes snapped up. The scowl on the bard’s face turned into a smile. “Did she really kick you out after you brought me?”

The tightness in the witcher’s chest started to ease. “She thought I had done it to you.”

The bard groaned. “Ugh! What a stupid bitch!”

Gerald took in the bard’s face, catching a few scars here and there. The most noticeable was the one on the bridge of his nose. He remembered how much it bled. “I am sorry.”

“What?” Jaskier’s eyes widened. “Oh! No, no I was teasing! I literally just told you that I knew tha…”

“No, not that…at the village.”

Jaskier huffed out a laugh. “You’re apologizing for saving my life? I’m not sure how to take that.”

“No!” Gerald growled. “If it wasn’t for me that wouldn’t have happened!”

Jaskier gaped at him. “What? NO! Those people were just bloody morons! Besides you told me that traveling with you would be dangerous so...”

“That’s not what I meant when I said…!” the witcher huffed, frustrated. “I never thought that they would…”

“That’s not your fault! And I was kind of poking the bear but I couldn’t help myself.”

Gerald looked up sharply. “What do you mean? What did you do?”

“I told them they were close-minded fucking morons.”

He couldn’t believe his ears.“What? Why?!”

Jaskier snapped. “Because they wanted to kill you!” He sighed, frustrated before looking at the witcher. “And they offered me money to help them. So I told them to fuck off.”

Even though the witcher’s brain was currently having difficulties believing that, it all clicked into place. Gerald had wondered for months what had happened that day. And it all made sense; the kidnapping, the slurs, the beating.

Still he couldn’t process that someone would stand up for him like that. Would put themselves at such a risk for him, especially a human.

“Jaskier.”

The bard sighed and walked up to the lake sitting on the grass.

Gerald quietly sat next to him, not really knowing how to respond.

Jaskier asked after a few moments. “Those men…Did you kill them.”

“No. But I was not kind.” Gerald muttered.

Jaskier nodded.

“I didn’t get to say it back then so...uhm…thank you Gerald, for saving my life.”

The witcher nodded stiffly, again not used to gratitude.

They stayed like that for the next hour just enjoying the view until it was time for Gerald to go on his hunt. Jaskier told him that he’ll be waiting for him in town and they parted ways.

The tightness in Gerald’s chest was gone and finally his shoulders sagged.

***

It turned out to be a werewolf. It didn’t take long thankfully, just a few hours but still the bastard got a few good hits. Gerald was sore.

The witcher passed through the small town, heading to his camp when a familiar melody caught his ear.

He quietly made his way into the tavern and lo and behold there was Jaskier dancing on a table singing his magnum opus _“Toss a coin to your witcher”_ with everyone around him singing along.

_“He's a friend of humanity! So give him the rest! That's my epic tale. Our champion prevailed. Defeated the villain!”_

Gerald’s jaw was hanging. He could hardly believe his eyes.

When Jaskier saw him standing there dumbfounded, he grinned. Stomping his foot on the table he gestured towards the witcher with his hand as he continued to sing.

_“NOW POUR HIM SOME ALE!!!”_

The patrons around him cheered and just like that a goblet of ale was thrust in his hand. The most ridiculous thing was that people were smiling and clapping him on the back, for a job well done.

Gerald stared at the bard, in disbelief.

How had this strange human, in just a few hours, managed to shift a whole tavern’s opinion on the witcher so much that they could look at him, bloody and disheveled, and still smile?

As the witcher sat down, awkwardly nodding his thanks at the people who addressed him, his gaze kept shifting back at the bard. 

His mind kept supplying that this was not humanly possible. That this was some sort of magic but as his eyes caught Jaskier's bright blue ones, all he saw was adoration. Pure human adoration, from this ridiculous man. 

_He's going to bring you so much shit_ , his mind piped up again but surprisingly the witcher realized he didn't mind that much. 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wanted to see what Gerald's reaction was when people started being nice to him after Jaskier made him famous. And I 100% believe that if Jaskier witnessed some sort of prejudice toward Gerald he would not have it. :D 
> 
> Also I wasn't really happy with the ending but it was interesting to write these two idiots, especially Gerald who is one of the most emotionally constipated characters ever. 
> 
> Well, that's about it. if you enjoyed it slap some Kudos and comments my way, I'd appreciate it. ^_^


End file.
